We Move Lightly in This Mist
by SadieMichelle
Summary: In a moment of desperation, college student Julie makes a most unusual pact with Crowley.
1. Prologue

**This is the first Supernatural story I've ever written, so if OOC-ness occurs, I apologize beforehand. I only very recently got into the show and I'm writing with a mix of my own interpretation of certain characters as well as how they're portrayed on the show. What you'll need to know for this story is it follows an original character as she navigates through her life and her relationship with an SPN character (you'll figure out nearly right away who it is and I'm a believer that not all relationships have to be romantic to be interesting). I can only hope you give this a chance and enjoy. I write for both of our enjoyment and the unexpected love I've come to develop for this special show.**

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**Prologue**

**June 9, 1999**

Julie was picking thoughtfully at a heavily bandaged wrist, enjoying the soft tickle of a warm breeze playfully lifting the hairs from the nape of her neck, when a voice suddenly broke through the quiet air.

"My, aren't you a broody one? You lot are normally more excited to see me."

Gazing up at the voice, Julie regarded the newly materialized figure with an analytical squint.

"You're wearing a suit," was the first thing she said.

"Businessman, have to look the part – that whole bit. Find it makes the customer more agreeable if they believe it's a transaction going on rather than auctioning their soul off to a demon just to get their jollies. Plus," he added, straightening his cuffs, "I look damned good."

She surprised herself by smiling. Even if the weight of it physically exhausted her.

"Now, what is it that I can do for you on this lovely June afternoon?"

He definitely wasn't what she expected.

"You're a demon?" she confirmed.

"In the flesh," he agreed, casually approaching her sitting form.

They were at a dusty crossroads in the Midwest, the sediment and gravel nearly untouched from indentation of shoes or tires. Almost complete isolation, if one wanted to be specific, save for Julie's white 95' Chevy Corsica parked in the grass.

"And it's true what's been said about deals being made on crossroads. That you'll grant a human whatever they want provided you get their soul in ten years?"

"Someone's been doing her homework," he congratulated, offering her a mock round of applause.

"Sorry. Up until now, I thought you were just a rumor."

"How insulting. I hoped to at least advance from a rumor to gossip," he mused, shifting back on his heels. "Ah, well. Market's not what it used to be these days. Less desperation. Which'll change, mind you. You lot are expecting the world to end in six months."

"I don't believe it will," Julie offered, shaking her head. "Just another year to mark off the calendar. But I know people who are buying into the Y2K hysteria."

"More business for me," he approved, clasping his hands behind him. "As engaging as this conversation has been, I'd much prefer to hear your bargain. I may enjoy conversing, but I'm here for a reason, after all.

At her prolonged silence, the demon knelt next to her, making sure his dress pants didn't touch the dusty road.

"Need to know if Clinton actually had sexual relations with that woman?" he gauged, attempting to mimic a southern accent.

Again, a smile tugged at her lips.

Maybe this could work.

"What's your name?"

"Crowley."

"I'm Julie."

"Didn't figure you for a Julie. But it's better than Britney. Daft girl made the deal just before her sixteenth birthday. Maybe it's for the best. Wasn't much behind the pretty face."

"Are you implying what I think you are?"

He studied her subtle awe with a dubious grin.

"Ah, don't be harsh on her. Her loneliness really is killing her."

Julie fought back the chuckle tingling in her throat, hand positioning itself beneath her chin.

Crowley's eyes traveled down to the limb, eyes focusing on the white bandage wrapped tightly around her wrist.

"Had an accident, then? Need the scars to disappear?"

Her mirth drained instantly.

The demon noticed this, throwing her a decisive look.

"Right then. Here at your behest. You didn't call on me just for a chat, though I'm flattered if that's the case. But you request it and it's yours for ten years. Money, love, a cure, vengeance, power...even shoes, I don't bloody care."

She stared past him, mind willing her tongue to work. He was right. She hadn't summoned him just to have a chat. And the amazement of him actually showing up, confirming the fact that demons were indeed real, was already beginning to fade.

"I want...company," Julie announced carefully.

It was clear he didn't understand.

"A boyfriend, then?"

There was no response.

"Oh," Crowley murmured, nodding knowingly. "Girlfriend?"

"I think I'm straight," she answered calmly. "Besides, I don't want either. I want..."

The words were lodged in the back of her throat, unwilling to leave the sanctuary of ambiguity.

"Out with it," he expressed, though not unkindly. "You've already got me interested."

"I want someone to keep me company," she blurted, boldly meeting his eyes. "Someone to talk to me. Even if it's the last thing I want."

"How's that different than a boyfriend?"

"It wouldn't be real," she explained, having expected this questioning. "If it takes me giving away my soul to a demon just to make a guy listen to what I have to say, then there's something desperately wrong with me."

"Honorable point," he agreed. "A bit of elaboration can go a long way, though."

It took a moment to realize he wanted more detail from her.

"I don't want it to be just someone off the street. It wouldn't be fair for me to uproot their lives."

"A customer with a conscience? What's become of the world?"

She wasn't sure if he was genuinely upset, but his comment spiked her confidence just the tiniest bit. Enough to finally request what she'd been meaning to all along.

"I want you to keep me company," she clarified, watching him hesitantly, "for the next ten years."

Julie didn't know Crowley well. Hell, they'd only met each other not even a full ten minutes ago.

But from the fixed stare he sent her, she could tell he wasn't surprised all that often.

"I'm flattered, dear, truly I am. But-."

"Let me explain," she defended, voice never reaching anywhere remotely aggressive. "I don't want to obstruct someone else's life. You're supposed to be selfish at twenty, I get it. It's tempting to ask for someone's undivided attention. Does wonders for the ego. But it'd all be fake. I'd know what I did to gain that attention and it'd make me feel sick."

"People have bargained with me for far more with less morality," he input.

It was a neutral statement. He was neither in favor or opposed to her justification.

"I don't want more. I don't need more. Just this."

"Why me? Seems dangerous to make this pact in particular with a demon."

"You're not going to kill me," she pointed out. "You want my soul too much. And from what I understand, killing me would break the pact. Aren't pacts about the only thing demons take seriously?"

He observed her cautiously, as if her proposal was unheard of.

She wondered if it was. Surely someone as equally pathetic as her once wanted the company of a demon who was obliged by a deal to be there for companionship.

Anyone?

"How do you know your need to have a "chat" buddy won't burden me?"

"It's not like I'm threatening to exorcise you. You're a demon. If I really burdened you, I think we both know what you could make of me." She paused, unable to hold back a frown. "Would it...burden you?"

Crowley didn't bother holding back a throaty laugh, shoulders shaking from his amusement.

"You are precious, aren't you?" he taunted rhetorically. "Christ, I haven't been this entertained since the Nixon administration. And you can only imagine what sort of things people asked of me then."

"Do you agree, then?" she asked hopefully.

"Afraid not, sweetheart."

Abruptly, he stood, but Julie followed him up, dusting excess dirt off her torn jeans.

"Why?"

"I'm here to give morally corrupt humans the opportunity to eternally damn themselves. Agreeing to this...even I feel slightly guilty. And I'm a bloody demon."

His continuous laughter finally rekindled an emotion she hadn't felt in far too long a time. Though, in hindsight, she should have probably attempted to contain her reaction better.

With no warning, she slapped him solidly across the face with a force great enough to emit a surprised, "Ow!" from both of them, though she got the impression only hers was a result of genuine suffering.

Julie quickly brought her hand back, mumbling out a pained, "Sorry."

"Worth it to stop seeing you so damned apathetic," he returned, rubbing his cheek gingerly.

"If you don't agree, I'll only summon another."

"I'd highly advise against that."

"If that's your answer, then I guess I don't need anything from you."

He didn't move from his position, eyeing her considerately.

"Why the bleedin' hell would you want the company of a demon?" he finally asked.

His bantering demeanor was gone, leaving for a stark seriousness to claim his face.

"You're not all that bad. Which sounds naive to say. You're likely a horrific individual-."

"-please don't sugarcoat it-."

"-but you've gotten me to speak more in the past fifteen minutes than I have in a year. That's what I was looking for when you first appeared. And I did hope it was you. The same person I learned about the crossroads from...they made a deal with you as well. Said you were a snarky bastard who wouldn't shut up."

"Don't know if I should filet the man or thank him for bringing me more business," Crowley deliberated.

"For the time being, I couldn't care less what you are. I'm not asking for your constant presence in my life. Just-."

"-companionship," he finished, raising his brows. "Why not get a pet or if you really wanted to talk, hire a therapist?"

"I can't care for an animal right now," she replied honestly. "And therapy wasn't working."

Again, his eyes swept up and down her form, seemingly determining something behind his large, brown eyes.

"Guess I should have asked this first. Why do you need the companionship? Not exactly bad on the eyes. With a bit o' makeup and an extra ten pounds, you'll be generating attention left and right."

Julie opened her mouth, then closed it, fingers instinctively curling around her wrist.

Crowley's eyes followed the gesture, only now remembering both of her wrists were wrapped in the white bandages.

A comprehending "ah" slipped past his lips seconds later.

"Complaining about desperation earlier, right?" she reminded, smiling weakly at him. "How much more desperate can I get then to request the presence of a demon so I don't..."

She trailed off, inhaling tiredly.

"I can barely take care of myself, much less an animal. After...the incident...I stopped going to therapy. It hadn't dissuaded me from attempting it. I don't want to worry my dad with what's on my mind. He's got enough on his plate. And I'm not sure if you're aware, but it's nearly impossible to make friends when you don't even want to get out of bed in the morning. I'm not asking for you to cure me. Or to help me. Or to...be some sort of crying shoulder. I just want...someone to fill in the constant silence in my head."

Her breaths were uneven, but she forced her body not to tremble. Granted, none of it had come out like she rehearsed, but it was out and that's what mattered.

"You couldn't have just asked for a ticket to one of those godawful boyband concerts? Or a lifetime supply of punchki's?" Crowley complained.

"Wouldn't it be ten years supply?"

"Oi, you get the point! Is there really nothing else that could make you just a tad bit happier? Because I'm telling you now that as desperate as you feel, it's not going to be worth it in ten years. Knowing you sold your soul for the companionship of a crossroads demon. Same crossroads demon that plans to take your soul to hell. I can get cranky. And homicidal. Not exactly a popular combination."

"This is the only thing to ask for that's crossed my mind and stuck," she admitted. "People will disappear from my life. Nothing really lasts forever, does it? But this...it's concrete. And you really aren't that bad of company."

"That _is_ saying something about the nature of the people you befriend."

Julie didn't bother holding back a grin at this. It was weary, but there all the same.

"I hadn't anticipated being able to talk so freely with you. Hoped for it, but didn't think it'd happen."

"And if I was to say no?"

"I'd keep burying that box until I found a demon that said yes."

"I'm the king of these pacts. All I have to do is tell 'em all to avoid you and you're out of luck."

He was watching her expectantly, attempting to figure out her procession of thoughts.

"I'd still end up in hell anyway," Julie concluded.

"How's that, then?"

"Isn't suicide a sin?"

Crowley sighed with great exaggeration, beginning a pace around the girl.

"You've made me care. Not for or about you. But care about this interesting arrangement," he confessed, scratching at his chin. "So, let's walk through this. If I agree, I only need to...chat you up from time to time?"

"I understand you're busy..."

"No, don't retract on this," he maintained forcefully. "It's your deal. You set the terms."

Swallowing nervously, Julie nodded.

"Once a week. You don't have to say anything profound. A lot of times, you'll just be background noise. I took medicine just to get me motivated enough to drive here and work the ritual. Trust me when I say I won't be in much of a talking mood."

"Well, where's the fun in that?" he scoffed.

"Did you..._want me to?_"

"I'm not going to agree if I'm prattling on to what might as well be a brick wall. It'd be far less tedious if you talked back. I can only hold back my boredom for so long."

Honestly, she hadn't considered this. Actually talking back. Engaging in a conversation. She'd only wanted an end to the silence. The lingering doubt that clawed and clawed and clawed at her brain until she was something less than human and more than numb.

"I can...talk. I'll try," she accepted, strangely not discouraged from this negotiation. It made her feel more necessary than she'd been in a long while.

"So, we've got the chit chats once a week," he recalled. "Moving on. If I can't break the pact, neither can you."

Julie's eyebrows furrowed tightly. "I don't understand."

"Don't prematurely check out of the hotel you're staying at."

At her further confused state, Crowley exhaled forcefully.

"Don't bleedin' kill yourself before the ten years is up!"

She jumped from the aggressiveness in his tone, eyes wide.

"Understand?" he finished.

"I..."

Crowley planted himself not a full foot away from her, pinning her in place with his glare.

"How close were you to doing it?" he demanded. "Say I never popped up when you summoned me. How long would it have been before you tried again?"

"Wouldn't have lived to see Y2K," she confided, feeling peacefully shameless in divulging this. She'd accepted it quickly after the first attempt failed.

"You go through with it and I promise to make your time in hell extra crispy," he promised, no room for debate in his voice. "If you're insistent I hold up on my end, I'm expecting the same out of you."

"Why? Don't you get my soul anyway if I...check out?"

"Breaking a pact will not make you a friend in my eyes," he assured sincerely. "Plus, isn't it obvious what you're looking for in this?"

Again, he was met with a blank stare.

"Unbelievably simple at times, aren't you?" he quipped, eyes flying up to the sky. "Need someone to cancel out that silence for a reason. Why might that be?"

It took her a moment to comprehend his meaning.

"You think I want to live?"

"Darling, I know you want to," he guaranteed. "Could have ended it today, if you'd wanted to. Instead, you force yourself to come here and make a deal. With a demon, of all things. Desperate you may be, but there's a part of you fighting to still breathe. You're hoping I'll knock you out of it."

She felt a strange mixture of displeasure and hope at his revelation. While she was faintly attracted to the idea of eventually overcoming this...emptiness, allowing herself to imagine that there was an end in sight, a day where the silence was no longer an enemy...well, that was just about the most terrifying thing in the world to believe in.

Julie knew a thing or two about expectations. She was well equipped with the consequences of putting too much faith in people. Her mistakes were clear and abundant, seemingly infinite until she learned to deactivate what made her such an easy target for manipulation and selfishness. Allowing herself to trust Crowley's own conviction, while lovely in theory, was a mistake waiting to happen. Every part of her knew this.

So, to clear out the air of uncertainty, Julie submerged any emotion other than indifference, into an abysmal part of her she had no intention of ever revisiting again.

"I won't check out," she assured, not quite believing herself.

"Good. I'll personally handle you myself if you do," he warned.

Their eyes stayed locked for a good ten seconds before Julie looked away.

"So, got the chit chats, got a promise neither of us will break our side of the pact...now, you sure you can handle your ever faithful companion being a big bad demon?"

"Don't bring up work," she hastily requested.

"Then how could you possibly expect me to pass the time?" he grumbled (it sounded faintly like a whine). "Surely, you don't expect me to talk about mundane things like sunshine and puppies and...boys?"

"No, of course not," she reassured, unable to help find amusement in such a clean range of topics. "You were doing fine earlier when we met. Just don't tell me about torture. Or what hell is like. Those are the only two conditions."

"I suppose that's doable. I won't always be in a fanciful mood, mind you. Job gets a bit stressful."

"I understand."

Her acceptance made Crowley retreat a bit, crossing his arms.

"You've really got no one to turn to for this, do you?"

It no longer stung to hear the pity. The part of her that once cared wasn't exactly in the mood to continue doing so anymore.

Instead, she only allowed herself a somber smile.

"This is the last option before the only option."

"So it is," he agreed, internally debating something. "I trust this will remain a pact of confidentiality."

"Telling people I converse with a demon would probably land me in a place worse than hell."

"Agree with you on that one," he nodded, inhaling deeply. "Well, despite the pact not being all that bad, I still find myself unwilling to seal it."

"Why?" she politely argued. "I mean...am I such bad company that even demons don't want anything do with me?"

"On the contrary, you're a good person. I can practically taste it on your soul. Which makes it deliciously valuable. Quite often, my customers have a bit of tarnish on theirs," Crowley related, fingers back to tapping at his chin. "Make no mistake that I want it. There's something near blissful about corrupting one with such few blemishes. But, I find myself conflicted with your nature."

"Isn't it better that I'm naive and compliant?"

"It's not in your nature to be. Just your circumstances making you believe you are. Once you get better, and you will - I have full faith in my charm and dashingly influential presence - you'll then see the error of yours ways and forever spend your remaining years begging me to sever the contract. Have you thought about that yet? What will happen when you finally get better? It's like getting the carpet yanked out from beneath you. Your days are numbered despite not being such a mess anymore."

Julie couldn't be sure if Crowley took the initiative to inform all his customers of the cons in their dealings, but she appreciated it all the same.

"Ten years to turn my life around isn't the worst thing I could have asked for," she reasoned. "And everyone who makes these deals ultimately count down the days until the pact is over."

When this failed to elicit a response, Julie chose her next words carefully.

"I need motivation to change and the struggle that comes along with it. Trust me when I say that at this point, you are the _only_ thing keeping me from jumping off the balcony of my hotel room. Figuratively and literally."

"Don't think I should take that as a compliment, but I'll do so anyway."

"Please, Crowley," she urged, uncaring as to how much she was willing to beg at that moment, "I'm not asking for the world. I don't want the world. I only want background noise to help me get through the ten years I have left."

He watched her for a full minute, never giving away an answer physically, but making it obvious he was debating an answer.

Julie couldn't help it. Ever so briefly, her disposition brightened. It was minimal and not enough to produce a legitimate smile, but strong enough to make her curious about the prospect of having someone to talk with. Someone who understood her situation and wouldn't berate her for it. An abatement to the harsh silence in her head. Someone who wouldn't walk away just because she isolated herself so thoroughly that nothing got through anymore.

She had friends before who tried to steer her out of the darkness. They were good friends too who put in anywhere from a month to a year to help her fight. But they couldn't stick around forever. Life had plans for them. Their paths branched out, diverging from the plummet hers was taking. She let them go without much of a fuss. And she prided herself for being understanding. There's nothing worse than a loser who tries to cling to the people departing from their life.

If she was honest with herself now, Julie didn't mind Crowley that much. So long as she didn't think too obsessively over him being a demon, of course. He'd gotten her to spill far more than she imagined she could. And had a sense of humor she wouldn't mind hearing play in the background. Definitely not the worst thing she envisioned meeting from hell.

He also had a point she was hesitant to acknowledge for aforementioned reasons. It would be nice to get better one day.

"Alright," he finally agreed. "It's a deal."

Julie exhaled thankfully, aiming another smile at him with a squint. Not until then did she realize just how brightly the sun shone above them. He'd been right in calling it a beautiful June afternoon.

"Course it's not officially sealed yet. Not by my standards, anyway," he informed. "Sealed with a kiss I believe is the popular expression."

"Demons seal deals with a kiss?"

"Oh, don't look so forlorn. So long as you don't bite, I'll behave."

"It's not what I expected," she specified.

"You should see the men. They're all so squeamish. If kissing someone of the same gender does that to them, I can't wait to see them getting comfy in hell," he smirked, approaching her.

Julie felt faint relief at noting they were about the same height. No leaning down or straining up. Her favorite position to kiss from.

"After this, it'll be official?"

"Unless you want to back out," he suggested.

The fact that he was still offering her an option out only convinced her that much more to accept it.

She didn't think twice about leaning forward, curling one arm around the back of his neck and pressing her lips firmly to his, partially surprised when he opened his mouth just the tiniest bit and _reciprocated_.

Seconds later and she broke away, cheeks a lighter hue of red.

"And all this time I thought you were innocent," he teased, wiping suggestively at his lips.

Her blush only grew hotter. She wasn't sure what he deemed a kiss, so to play it safe, she put a little soul behind her tongue. Not like it'd be there in ten years anyway. Might as well make the most of it.

"Well, congratulations, Julie. You've officially won yourself a demon companion for the next ten years," Crowley announced, sounding like a game show contestant.

"Thank you," she gratefully responded.

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**I enjoy Crowley's character immensely, even if he does get me angry at him frequently, usually because of who he tortures (Kevin, Samandriel, etc). Despite all that, I feel like his character is more layered than the average demon and he has the potential to very, very subtly experience not just strictly negative emotions. Plus, he's got a great sense of humor. I hope I didn't slaughter his characterization too much and that you don't wholeheartedly hate Julie. From personal experience, I know that depression can lead people to act without thinking everything through. She was desperate enough to sell her soul for companionship. Call it stupid, but what's done is done. This story will be primarily told in her POV and if she doesn't check out, there's a chance for her to run into other SPN characters as she lives out her ten years. Which is another great thing about the show. There are so many characters to love and to love to hate. And if I didn't make it clear, Julie had previously attempted suicide - hence her bandaged wrists. Otherwise, let me know your thoughts in a review. **


	2. Chapter 1: Year 1

**For the two people who have this on story alert and the two reviewers, thank you bunches! I know it isn't much, but I'm passionate about this one and I hope you all thoroughly enjoy. I've decided to recount the first year with this one and obviously, I can't cover everything. Some of the meetings will seem random, some will have great substance to them. It's all about the experience and relationship and pact. I apologize for the OOC-ness. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 1 - Year 1**

**January 10, 2000**

"Christ, it's cold in here. Ever hear of a heater?"

Julie glanced at Crowley's form before dragging her eyes listlessly back to the window. Evening was just setting in and the snow continued its merciless fall, causing whiteout conditions throughout the entire town.

"Oh, don't tell me we're back to being quiet again. Thought I kicked you of that habit back in November," he continued, making his way over to her seated form.

She still didn't respond.

"Right, well I guess I'll begin telling you about the young woman I recently finished carving out wit-."

"The heater's broke," Julie interrupted, vaguely annoyed at his method of making her talk. She learned rather quickly that he liked an active participant in their conversations. Took until November before he went to drastic measures to gain it.

"Hire someone to fix it."

"I've only got enough to pay rent for the month."

She didn't know where he got his chair from, but soon, he was sitting beside her, following her empty gaze out the window.

"Sell your car," he suggested.

"I already did. Had to pay for the second semester somehow."

He was eyeing her scrutinously, but Julie remained otherwise unaffected. Her mind was elsewhere. Perhaps far enough away that even Crowley couldn't retrieve it.

"World's still here," he input. "And I'm great, by the way. Thanks for asking."

When this sarcasm failed to elicit a response, Crowley contained a sigh.

"Daddy not around? Thought you mentioned he'd be stopping by."

It took her a moment to reply, eyes unwilling to part from the addiction of staring into nothing.

"He's at his girlfriend's," she evenly answered. "He'd been planning to come, but the blizzard hit and the roads are horrible."

"Is that...bad?"

A full minute passed by of silence on her end.

Irritated, Crowley impatiently snapped his fingers in front of her face.

Julie looked at him impassively.

"I'm sort of relieved," she admitted.

"'Course you are," he grumbled. "You do realize you're the loneliest little shit I've ever met?"

"Coming from you, that sounds generous."

He wanted to smirk because it amused him how well she could pick up on his mannerisms at times, but her eyes were back to gazing out the window.

"Why are we relieved daddy's not here?"

"You don't have to ask that."

"I bloody well know that. I'm a demon. I could put you out of your misery if I so chose."

The unspoken questioned lingered eerily between them.

"Don't get your hopes up," he murmured darkly. "Now, tell me or I start recounting how Katie's insides looked when displayed above my fireplace."

"He found out about the suicide attempt," came her calm explanation. "His girlfriend thinks I should take a year off and get some help at a state hospital."

"Not a bad idea."

"I'm not going to be the loser who drops out of college because of a mental breakdown."

Her words were passive aggressive, but that was about as much emotion as she showed.

"Is daddy going to try and convince you to drop out?"

"He thinks it was his fault."

"Was it?"

"He didn't put the blade in my hand. It's my responsibility to deal with. I don't need him."

"No, of course not," he deadpanned, eyes scurrying around her darkened apartment. "You're obviously doing very well for yourself."

"Go be a sarcastic bastard somewhere else," she mumbled.

"And break this pact? Not a chance. It's been one of the most amusing arrangements I've agreed to in a long while."

"Gossip to all your buddies about me around the blood cooler?"

"Your self-pity is always a popular topic," he returned.

It wasn't until Julie stopped talking that Crowley realized she intentionally steered him to insult her.

"Ever get tired of feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Not even remotely," she assured, then added, "I deserve it."

"Bright ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

No irony was lost on either of them when the lights above dimmed, then finally flickered out for the night.

Minutes passed by, but Julie didn't leave her spot. Her shivering became noticeable, however.

"At least go get a blanket," he scowled, not particularly caring for how concerned his demand made him sound. If she wanted to spend her night freezing, he wasn't going to stop her.

"I'm alright. You can go now."

Her voice finally reached it. That peak of insufferable indifference that made her sound like a dead girl taking residence in a live body.

"Often times, my boss lets me have a good few hours with some of my customers after their ten years are up," Crowley began casually, as if he were discussing the weather, glaring with no shortage of sadism at Julie. "Today was a lovely bint named Katie. Can't be bothered to remember what she wanted. Bad sign already. I like it if they're memorable. Anyways, Katie spent a ridiculous amount of time pleading with me. Babbles about giving me anything I wanted. It grew so tiresome that I cut out her tongue."

There was a faint flinch, but otherwise, Julie remained spiritless.

"I imagine having your tongue cut out by a blade is rather painful, but personally, I think the screaming was a bit dramatic. I fed her tongue to Growley. He's my hellhound. That's a big dog, Julie. Known for tearing you to shreds. Once the tongue was out of the equation, I found I could be more artistic without such resistance. Your bodies, fickle things that they are, really are quite fascinating. They respond in the most peculiar ways to torture. This Katie...for ten years straight, she could afford weekly pedicures. And while I'm not exactly one to value physical looks over character, being the upstanding businessman that I am, I've got to agree that she had fantastic finger nails. Well, I did say had. I think she wept the most when I managed to wriggle the tip of the blade right beneath 'em and push up. Not that she kept her fingers for long."

Julie only shifted in place, for once, giving no sign the recounting of torture was affecting her. This made Crowley even crankier, eyes shooting to the window.

"I practiced my penmanship on her chest. Figured out I could tear out her kneecaps. Discovered, on accident, may I add, that your heart is able to pump enough blood through your body for approximately three minutes after you've been properly filleted. Not that Katie could die anymore. Which is nice. Always inconvenient when they stop breathing on you."

Thirty seconds of silence passed by before Crowley finally turned his attention back to Julie, mutely disappointed at her lack of response. The torture bit usually shook her from her stupor. Usually shook most humans from wherever it is their minds wandered to.

It wasn't until he got a proper look at her that he realized she was silently crying, the tears having managed to make her cheeks slippery and warm.

"Finally," he praised.

Julie payed no mind to having heard him as the tears continued sliding down her face. It was without a doubt one of the most bizarre scenes Crowley had witnessed in a very good amount of time. Despite physically expelling tears, she appeared to do so emotionlessly. Like it was a reaction she wasn't able to control. Much like a faucet someone forgot to turn off.

"Christ, you are broken," came his mutter, unable to keep himself from staring.

"Please, go."

He only complied because she still somehow managed to sound polite about it. Beneath the tears and the self pity and the monsters he knew clawed at her, she still found the time to politely ask him to leave.

It made him thoroughly uncomfortable.

**January 18, 2000**

"Never going to talk about it, then?"

"Talk about what?" Julie asked, hurriedly shifting through the papers on her desk.

"Your little breakdown," Crowley reminded.

"I suffer one every once in a while," she acknowledged, brow scrunched in confusion. "Shit, I didn't print it at the library."

When she realized he was still staring at her, Julie fell back into a chair with a sigh.

"Don't worry," she assured with a brief smile, "I'm back on Prozac."

"Relying on pills to make you happy? You're a real trooper, aren't ya?"

"I make the choice to take them," she defended, a bit sharper than usual. "Just as easily, I don't have to. And I don't have to talk to you about this. You're a demon. You don't care about my well being."

"You make me sound deplorable," he mockingly gasped.

She hesitated, eyes shifting down to her lap.

"Sorry."

Crowley briefly lost his train of thought. There was something about Julie's apologies - remarkably sincere each time they came out - that caught him off guard in a disconcerting way.

"On the bright side," she reasoned, "you don't have to talk to a brick wall today. I've got a class in two hours and I have to stop by the library and reprint a paper, but-."

"-where do you go?"

"To college?" she asked in confusion. "I thought I already told you."

"'Course I already know that," he snapped. "Where do you go when your heads too clogged with silence?"

Her body posture reflected defensiveness at the question. It was obvious she knew the answer and didn't want to relay it.

"Consider me curious," Crowley offered, easing out the aggression from his tone.

"I'm starting to get the impression your curiosity is dangerous."

"Picked up on that, have we?"

"Are you going to torture me like you did Katie if I don't tell you?"

"Well, now you're just putting ideas in my head."

"I don't know," she answered honestly after a quiet moment. "It's sort of like drifting. I mean, you're still in your own body, but the outside world is muffled. You hear somethings while others go over your head. It's pleasant."

"Yes, real pleasant."

His sarcasm was dripping.

"You wouldn't understand," Julie accepted, watching him closely. "I can tell that about you. It's a purely human response to a situation."

"That's a wee bit racist."

"You think I'm racist against demons?"

"Just proved it."

"Considering you guys ride around in our bodies and wreak havoc, I think I can afford to dislike a few of your kind."

Crowley studied her carefully, all signs of joking gone.

"How's it aware we can possess you?"

"I did a bit of research," she explained. "It was around Halloween. Practically everything was reminding me that I made a deal with a demon. So, I decided to read up on you. Try to separate the lore from the fiction."

He didn't speak, alerting her to continue.

"Salt keeps you out. Your eyes are black, no shock there. You can jump out of people's bodies whenever you want, but if you're exorcised, you're sent back to hell. Holy water works against you. And-."

Julie paused.

"Stopping midway through your sentences is rather rude," he reprimanded.

"I don't know if it's true or not," she revealed lamely. "A few books suggested that once you're possessing a human, you know that person's thoughts and memories. In essence, you become that person in order to better manipulate the people around you."

"I think I'll just keep you guessing on that one."

"And I'm the rude one," she mumbled to herself.

"Yes, you are. Now, how would you like for me to fill in the silence today?"

**March 3, 2000**

Julie was bent over a toilet, heaving her lungs out, when Crowley found her.

"Bit of a hangover?" he inquired nonchalantly.

When she didn't answer, he peeked into the toilet bowl over her shoulder.

"You _stupid_ girl."

In a second, he was kneeling beside her, one hand grabbing a hold of her short, blonde locks and yanking back her head. It wasn't the appropriate time to note it, but she was letting her hair grow out again rather than keeping it at a reclusive length around her chin.

"Open your mouth," Crowley demanded, glaring at the bluish tint of her lips.

There was no awareness in her eyes that she was hearing him, but something inside her body must have forced her to try and vomit the poison back out.

Muttering a few curses beneath his breath, Crowley inhaled deeply before shoving two fingers into her mouth, forcing them past her gag reflex and down her throat.

The moment her body jerked, he pushed her head back down to the toilet, watching in disgust as she continued emptying her stomach contents.

She didn't stop for a good five minutes, unable to with the hand held securely in her hair.

Only when the last of the retching ceased did the demon finally release her from his hold.

Sucking in a greedy breath, Julie weakly fought off the convulsions shaking her body, blinking blearily at the inside of her bathroom.

"We had a deal," came Crowley's sharp bark.

There was no sense in looking at him. She could tell he was furious by his voice.

"You don't bloody kill yourself before the ten years are up!" he yelled, shooting up to a standing position. "How difficult is that for you to understand?"

Coughing, Julie tried to speak, but the dryness of her throat severed all attempts.

"Not even a bleedin' year goes by and you've given up. I've known humans to be pathetic, but this is a new standard even in my books."

It surprised her to feel a sting at his words. Usually, people's insults went through her. Not this time, apparently.

"Crowley," she groaned hoarsely, trying to make eye contact despite the fever in her body, "it was an accident. Prozac and Ambien don't mix."

The last thing she managed to catch was his slightly confused features before she slumped back onto the cold tile.

What felt like minutes passed by before Julie opened her eyes, blinking rapidly at her surroundings.

"Sleeping Beauty awakes."

She didn't bother holding back her grin. Sometimes, Crowley had perfect timing.

"Should I be surprised you saw the movie?"

Damn, her voice still sounded like she'd been smoking and screaming all night.

"Guilty pleasure, that," he remarked. "You look like hell."

"That's saying something if it's coming from you."

Raising her head proved simple enough, but when she bent over towards her knees to stretch, her stomach ached in protest.

"Crap," she muttered, recalling just what was wrong with her.

"Sleeping pills and anti-depression medicine. You're living the life, aren't you?"

"It was working for awhile," she protested tiredly, one hand clutching her side. "But the staying up was getting really, really bad. I upped my dosage only for this week. Spring break's coming up and all my professor's are shoving in a whole bunch of exams before we leave."

"I'm taking it wasn't an attempt on your life?"

"Oh, please. I refuse to end myself because of homework."

This caused the demon to laugh, in turn making Julie smile again. It was surprising how his good mood transferred back to her.

"You're still here," she commented, glancing at a nearby clock. "Four hours later. That's...courteous."

"Merely looking out for my investment," he defended smoothly.

"I won't kill myself. I promised you."

"So you did."

He was studying her with a squint, comfortable enough not to hide the fact that he was musing over something.

Julie merely shifted back on the couch, releasing a deep, but pained breath.

"Two weeks ago," she suddenly announced, unhappy with the silence, "do you remember talking to me then?"

"Vaguely. Weren't you in bed? Out of it, I take it. You weren't making much sense."

"I was still asleep," she admitted seriously.

"You're joking."

The fact that he looked mildly offended only made Julie's grin brighter.

"When I'm out because of medicine, sometimes, I don't stay that way. I don't think you noticed once."

"I'm more disturbed that you find it amusing."

"I've disturbed you? Man, I'm on a roll today," she congratulated.

Her head pounded back in response, forcing a wince through her.

"Hospital's in walking distance from here."

"No," she waved off swiftly. "I'll be fine."

At his blank stare, Julie propped her head against the cushy couch.

"My dad doesn't need to see me like this."

She pretended in her mind that Crowley understood what that meant.

**April 28, 2000**

"The taste of love is sweet, buh-dun-dun-dun-duh-dun, when heart's like ours meet, buh-dun-dun-dun-duh-dun, I fell for you like a child, oh, but the fire went wild," she sang. "I fell into a burning ring of fire, I went down, down, down, and the flames grew higher. And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire, the ring of fire."

"Man in Black fan?"

Julie jumped at the voice, nearly losing her grip on the plate.

"You have got to be more subtle about showing up," she urged upon regaining her breath, glancing at the demon. "One of these days, you're going to be responsible for my death."

"I aim to frighten you. You did get the memo that I'm a demon, right? And I'll be responsible for your death anyway. Don't see the harm."

Her eyes went back to washing the remaining few dishes as the song faded away on the radio.

"Yes, I'm a fan," she answered, forgetting he'd asked a question initially. "If I wasn't so messed up, I think I'd have sold my soul to see him in concert."

Behind her, Crowley shrugged.

"He's decent. I'm more surprised you like him. You don't seem like the type."

Though he couldn't see it, Julie balanced a light smile on her lips.

"You're convinced that I like pop music and boy bands. There's a lot about me you don't know, Crowley."

"So it would seem," he accepted. "For instance, I wasn't aware you had a particularly scandalous birthmark placed near your-."

"That was not my fault," she argued with a laugh, glancing at him over her shoulder. "You seriously have really terrible timing. Isn't it polite, even for a demon, to wait until a human is finished showering before accosting her?"

"Generally, yes," Crowley agreed, ambling up to her side. "And I was quite the gentleman. But you are partly at fault for walking around your apartment, naked."

"It was from the bathroom to my bedroom! Short walk. I wasn't expecting to meet an audience along the way. Plus, I'm paying rent on this place. I have the right to walk around naked if I so please."

"Please, do," he encouraged. "I don't mind."

"That almost sounded suggestive," she exclaimed with faux shock.

"Demons need love to."

At her raised eyebrow, Crowley leaned against her counter top.

"Well, not love. But we can pass the time with sex."

"Huh, so you're like the average guy. Not so different after all."

"Speaking of that, I never see one around here. Are you sure you're not shacking up with the other team?"

Julie washed her hands thoroughly and dried them before replying.

"The last thing I'm ready for is a relationship. I'm cruel enough as it is to myself. Why let a guy join in?"

She hadn't meant for it to come out so hopeless, but couldn't deny how true it felt.

Crowley didn't say anything to this, surprisingly, spurring Julie to continue. It did sound cold when left without an explanation.

"It's happened before. And I learned my lesson. See, not just guys, but people who realize you don't have high self-esteem, if they can get away with it, will screw you over. It's like this subconscious desire for power over someone else. Knowing that your words have enough force to make someone cry or ache or suffer. I met a few wrong people that I foolishly opened myself up to. A good portion took advantage. I don't need to deal with that again."

"Not everyone needs to know your inner bits. People get into the naughtiest sex when they're nothing but strangers."

"I've thought about it, but it hasn't kept my interest long enough."

"Shame."

**May 12, 2000**

"Yes," Julie answered monotonously, holding the phone to her ear as she shifted further into the bed, "I understand. I'll turn in the uniform on Monday."

When the line went dead, Julie slung an arm over her eyes, gripping the phone tightly. She tried to breathe in and out calmly, but the tears managed to leak out regardless, making her chin distort into a quiver.

"Still in bed at four in the afternoon? Reconsidered your view on sex?"

At Crowley's voice, Julie dropped the arm hiding her face. She really wished he'd listen to her for once and consider knocking before entering, like a normal person.

"No."

"I see," he observed, approaching her bed carefully. "Should I even ask?"

"You do it because it's what I expect of you as a part of our pact, not because you actually care," she snapped.

"Doesn't stop you from telling me," he defended.

He had a point there.

"I just got fired."

"Thought you hated the job anyway. Went on about people not appreciating cashiers."

"It was still a job. I was planning to work all summer so I could continue affording this place and get through the fall semester."

"Ah. How is it you got fired?"

Her smile was bitter.

"Failing to disclose medical information," she revealed. "They don't need to know that personal shit about me!"

She didn't realize it was anger coursing through her until she felt her arms shaking. God, it'd been too long since she allowed an emotion other than subdued melancholy or numbness to claim her.

"Calm down. It's not the end of the world. At least not yet."

His light teasing only poisoned her mood. The next time Crowley would visit, she'd apologize to him for her behavior. Now, however, she released all that pent up anger both she and the Prozac worked diligently at subsiding.

"Don't get high and mighty on me. You're a demon that can fuck over whoever he wants without repercussion or having to work for it. When's the last time you put yourself through college because your dad was too busy screwing around with a woman who thinks you're better off in a psych ward? When's the last time you worked twelve hours at a job you hated? When's the last time you had to memorize every damned igneous and metamorphic rock and remember all the Russian czars in order and keep straight the stages of fifteen lethal diseases while attempting to understand when the hell you're ever going to fucking use Trigonometry in real life anyway? When's the last time you ever handled all of these duties with the constant reminder that there exists an emptiness inside you so deep you can feel it in your soul? When's the last time you constantly debated the idea of putting a bullet in your head because you just don't fucking care anymore? Tell me that, Crowley and I swear to God, you'll have your damn apology!"

Her chest hurt from the outburst. Burned, to be specific. Like she'd just expelled all the oxygen in her lungs.

Crowley gave her a searching scan before vanishing.

Julie whipped the phone after him.

**May 22, 2000**

"Johnny again?"

Shrugging, Julie continued her slump over her desk, ears fully tuned into the solid force of Johnny's acoustic guitar.

"He's soothing," was her excuse.

"Well, thank God you're not obsessed," he quipped sarcastically.

"Oh, please. You've got to be harboring love for a certain band or singer. Probably worse than mine."

"I'm a classical sort of man."

"Boring," she blew out, sending a paper plunging off the desk. "It's probably a female singer. Seems like you'd show reluctant affection for one."

"Well, Britney's second album is better than her first. Guess she's accepted her years are numbered. Making the best music of her career."

"The fact that you know all that just proves my point," Julie pointed out, trying to hold back a grin.

"This conversation is tedious."

"Sure, sure," she mumbled soothingly, closing her eyes as 'Rose of My Heart' began.

**June 10, 2000**

She couldn't help but recall Crowley's words from the day before no matter how insistently she did everything to forget them. Only after an annoying sitcom couldn't drown out her thoughts, did she submit to his pesky reminder.

_"It's been an interesting year, hasn't it? Don't forget you've got nine left. Let's hope this next one goes a bit more...swimmingly."_

They'd drunk a bottle of Scotch he'd brought over just for the occasion. Claimed it was real Scotch too and boy did she believe him. He laughed at her each time she tried knocking back a full shot, before choking on it. If Julie hadn't known any better, she'd have almost thought Crowley had a mini-celebration for fun.

However, she did know him better. Never got lost in the illusion of the companionship he was providing her. He was a demon and ultimately, he only cared about their pact and her soul.

For the first time since she'd made the deal on the crossroads last year, it finally began to sink in just what was expected out of her at the end of the ten years. And though it didn't quite terrify her yet, she knew eventually it would. Something had changed in her within this past year. She couldn't give praise to what in particular because she wasn't yet sure if this was a change for the better or for the worst, but whatever it was, it would make her miss her soul. Very much.

At this moment, it was about the only thing sustaining her.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Julie shut off the TV.

When the phone rang, she was tempted to let it continue going. It was one of those days she didn't want to talk to anyone. Especially her dad. He'd been persistent on her meeting Vanessa.

But Julie held her ground. So long as Vanessa kept bringing up the subject of her seeking help from a hospital for her "issues", then she'd be avoiding her. She didn't need help like that. Plus, a stay at a mental hospital followed you around when seeking employment. Although undecided for a major, she didn't need an incident like that to mess up her chances at having a decent, stable life.

She let the phone go to voice mail, smiling in relief when no message was left. But just as soon, the phone began ringing again.

Sighing with a fair amount of exaggeration, Julie trudged over to the phone, plucking it up after two rings.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Miss Bonham?"

"Yep, who is this?"

"It's Trish, from Cafe Nine. The off-campus place? We worked together."

Julie nodded in recognition, slightly confused. "Yeah, didn't you freak out when you saw the Prozac in my purse and called the manager to complain?"

There was an anxious giggle followed by, "Oh, that...well, don't sweat it. I cleared up the issue. Dan's not working here anymore and between the three of us, he was the only other person who knew. I got promoted to his position so now I'm manager and I called to say that you can come back to work here."

"Um, repeat that again?"

"Yeah, it's all settled. I'm sorry for freaking out. It was a misunderstanding, that's all."

Shocked, Julie struggled for something to say, but found herself having a difficult time finding the proper words.

"Thank you," she finally breathed out graciously. "I-thank you."

There was a muffling of voice from the other end, followed by a high pitched squeak.

"Julie?" Trish continued.

"Yes?"

"You won't have to worry about starting over at minimum wage. Does $15.40 sound okay to you?"

Lowering the phone, Julie shook her head and pinched her arm.

When this produced a dull ache, she placed the phone back to her ear.

"That sounds good. More than I made before...but Trish...I don't understand. Why the pay raise? That's kind of expensive to keep me with that salary."

As thankful as she was for this unexpected opportunity, it still didn't change how nonsensical it seemed to keep her around. She wasn't a business guru, but knew enough to understand she'd be paid roughly the same as managers. Even employees who'd been there for over ten years didn't make that much.

Then again, maybe keeping her opinions to herself and a fake smile plastered on her face was finally paying off.

"We undervalued you here. You put up with a lot of shit, both from customers and us. You deserve it."

She sounded sincere enough to make Julie wonder if she'd had the wrong impression of Trish all along.

"Thank you, again. Is it okay if I come down in an hour to get a uniform?"

"Yep, that's fine by me. Can't wait to see you working here again. Bye!"

"See you."

Clutching the phone to her chest, Julie stared ahead, a smile tilting her lips. This not only helped solve her fall semester crisis, but settled the prospect of moving in with her dad. After learning she'd lost her job, he was insistent that she come live with him since she wouldn't be able to afford the apartment anymore. And she'd been half tempted to agree before she found out Vanessa was living with him as well.

Talk about awkward family dinners.

Though it disappointed her to distance herself this way from her dad, if it meant that her mental health wouldn't be brought up every other minute, then it was a necessary decision.

With a noticeable spring in her step, Julie returned to the couch, relaxing into the cushions. Maybe Crowley was right. This next year had the possibility to go just a bit more swimmingly than the year before. Yeah, she'd have to ask him to teach her more British slang.

/./././././././././

"I'd say she believed you. What do you think, Trish?"

The woman rolled her eyes, crossing her arms unhappily.

"Listen, douchebag, I don't know who you think you are, threatening and forcing me to rehire a suicidal weirdo, but-."

Her body was slammed backwards into the stock room wall without a single touch, throat tightening up and cutting off her ability to speak.

"How about you listen to me, sweetheart?" Crowley decided, two fingers playfully brushing through the air, digging the woman harder into the wall. "You'll make sure my dear friend Julie has a job here from now until she decides to quit. And because you're extra generous, you'll throw in a bit of your own paycheck into hers. Nothing like helping out those less fortunate than you, is there?"

The demon smirked when he heard only desperate choking.

"Glad we're on the same page. You do whatever is necessary to make sure she keeps her job here even if she gets a bit...moody. Does that sometimes. Doesn't talk for days at a time. Really quite inconvenient," he admitted, smirking fondly. "If you have to take the blame for something she did, you do it. If you have to clean up a mess she made, you do it. If you have to blow the entire bleedin' staff just so she keeps her job, you do it! From an earlier observation, I can tell the latter won't be much of a problem for you. Now, have I made myself clear? Or would you like to be known as the tramp who got her brains splattered all over the stock room walls?"

Only when there were tears in the woman's eyes as she frantically tried to nod, did Crowley remark, "Excellent."

Seconds later and Trish was choking in air on wobbly feet, eyes trying to find the man that'd been there only seconds earlier.

* * *

**Well, who says Crowley doesn't make sure his investment isn't comfortable? Next chapter might be two years wrapped into one. It all depends, I suppose, on how their relationship goes and dedicating time to Julie getting better. Provided Crowley doesn't do anything to mess it up. Hope you enjoyed. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


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